


First Day of Wintermarch

by KitsuHime



Series: Stone Dreams [3]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Fluff, just fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-02
Updated: 2018-01-02
Packaged: 2019-02-26 13:14:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13236471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KitsuHime/pseuds/KitsuHime
Summary: Morgan and Bull ring in the new year together.





	First Day of Wintermarch

**Author's Note:**

> Tiny drabble of fluff for Morgan and Bull. Chapter thirty is in the works, I promise!

While the cold never reached the main bailey or the courtyard of Skyhold, Morgan still felt the bite of winter air as she snuck along the rooftops, her pack bouncing gently against her back.  She landed softly on the—still—incomplete roof, knocking once beside the tarp before slipping inside and dropping down onto Bull’s floor.  He was smiling when she straightened. 

Nearly racing across the floor, Morgan wrapped her arms around him, pressing her cold nose to his warm chest as he squirmed under her cold fingers.  “Shit, Boss!  Enough with the frost magic!”

Pulling back, Morgan stuck out her tongue as she pulled her pack down.  From it she produced a parcel of slightly squashed sweets, and a wide, squat bottle of campaign.  Josephine had handed it off with a smile, assuring the Inquisitor that it would be to her taste.  Bull watched her as she went for the two mismatched, earthenware mugs on his small table, pulling the cork and pouring two generous measures.

“Dagna will be setting off the fireworks soon,” Morgan said, returning with the cups and sitting herself against Bull.  “Ooh, you’re so warm!”  His laugh rumbled pleasantly in his chest as he put his free arm around her. 

“How can you put off so much heat but always be so cold?” he said into his drink, eye sparkling.

“Don’t know, don’t care,” Morgan said.  “That’s what I’ve got you for.”  She grinned impishly up at him, watching the candle light play over his rough features.  He was so gloriously beautiful.  And he was hers.  Sort of.  She took a drink, a burst of bright fruit accompanying the rush of bubbles.  “Thank the Maker for Josephine,” she said, raising her cup.

The smile on her face was carefree and nearly childlike, her feet kicking gently where they hung above the floor.  She was positively vibrating with excitement, and Bull found himself wondering what she’d done for other First Day celebrations.  He smiled, putting his hand around her waist.  She took another drink and leaned into him, and warmth bubbled in his chest, something he was starting to recognize as contentment. 

“You sure you don’t want to go down to the party?” Bull asked, resting his drink on his knee. 

Morgan shook her head.  “Nope.  We’ll be able to see the fireworks from the stupid hole in your roof that you won’t let me have fixed.”  She nodded to the ceiling.  “And I’ve been wishing a ‘Happy First Day’s Eve’ to every noble in the castle since dawn.  I’m _exactly_ where I want to be.” 

The following nod was so final and determined, Bull felt his smile widening.  She really was happy here, with _him_.  It was hard to remember when someone had sought him out for nothing more than the joy of his company.  People had come to him for advice, a sparring partner, and sex.  Morgan came to him for all of those.  But she also sought just to be around him.  He never saw her more at ease than when she was like this, just the two of them together, away from the rest of the world.

Fuck, she wasn’t even like this with her _mother_.

Bull didn’t know if it was selfish nor not, but he found himself taking pride in that.  In being the only one able to take such a natural worrier like Morgan away from her troubles with just his presence.  At least for a little while.  If anyone deserved it, it was Morgan. 

When the fireworks started, Bull wasn’t looking, too captivated by the way Morgan’s face lit up, awash in the colored lights bursting above.  They caught in her eyes like stars, her pale face taking on each hue.  Leaning over, Bull snuffed out the candle, plunging the room into darkness. 

“Happy First Day, Bull,” Morgan said, leaning her upturned head against his chest.

Still not looking up, Bull stroked a hand slowly through her hair.  “Happy First Day, Boss,” he murmured. 


End file.
